


Freedom’s Light Burnin’ Warm

by laudatenium



Series: I'm Burnin' (For You) [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wildfire, An overwhelming amount of patriotism in jest, Birthday Steve, Firefighter Steve, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudatenium/pseuds/laudatenium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce nodded.  “I guess it’d be nice.  It’s not like I have plans.  And I won’t mind celebrating Steve’s birthday.  Those firefighters know how to party.”</p><p>Tony froze.  “W-what did you say?”</p><p>“Oh, Tony.”  Bruce gave him a pitying look.  “I guess I should leave while you try and find Steve a birthday present?”</p><p>He groaned and buried his face in one of Pepper’s stupid throw pillows.  “I am the worst boyfriend in the world.”</p><p>Bruce just laughed at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom’s Light Burnin’ Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “America” by Neil Diamond. (Yes, it's cheesy, but this is my day of patriotic cheese. Let me have this.)
> 
> No, I haven’t forgotten this! Just been lazy, and had a lot on my plate. So, have Fourth of July fluff!
> 
> FYI, in accordance to tailoring professions to fit this verse, Bruce is a theoretical chemical engineer, with lots of biochem experience. He’s sort of an independent, but only really contracts himself out to SI, mainly because he enjoys working with Tony, even if he’s annoying. I love Bruce being a specialist in gamma rays, but chemical engineering puts him closer to Tony’s world without stripping him of his cred, in my eyes. (And no one is consistent on what kind of doctor Bruce is, so nyah.)

“Tony?  Are you listening?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, completely focused.  He hasn’t texted me in _two hours and forty eight minutes._ ”

 

“But I’m here to work on the hexachordal proliferation,” Bruce protested.

 

“Yeah.  Sure,” Tony muttered, still in his phone.

 

Bruce sighed.  “You have no idea what that is, do you?”

 

“Not the slightest.”

 

“It’s a musical thing.  People with doctorates don’t always understand . . . doesn’t matter.  If you don’t get in your car and get your butt to Camp Nelson, I’m going to use my new tranquilizer on your butt and bring you there myself.”

 

“Traitor.  Steve loves my butt.”  Tony said, mildly affronted.  He threw the phone onto the glass coffee table, were it slid a foot before stopping.  “I can’t go to Camp Nelson.  Or my house in the mountains.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Have you _seen_ the news?  Fuck that, have you seen the columns of smoke coming in from the northeast?  Half of California is on fire, and unluckily, my boyfriend is one of the few people qualified to help put the fires out.”

 

“Okay, but when _isn’t_ California on fire?  Just saying,” Bruce held up his hands in a placating gesture, in the face of Tony’s glare.  “You haven’t seen him since May.  Maybe it would do you both some good.”

 

They stared each other down: on one side, the mechanical engineer who never likes to be wrong, on the other, the chemical engineer who is probably right.

 

“Maybe I should call.  Ask if there’s a good time.”  Tony muttered, digging the toe of his work Oxford into the plush carpet.

 

Bruce, bless him, only raised an eyebrow.  “You think?”

 

“But I also want to _surprise him_ ,” Tony whined, slumping lower into the couch.  Bruce just sighed and went back to his chemical formulas.

 

The glass of the coffee table let out a shudder as Tony’s phone vibrated with a text.  He lunged to scoop it up, checking if it was from Steve, ignoring the knowing look Bruce shot him over his glasses.

 

It was a picture text, showing a chubby towhead baby of maybe three months.  In the corner of the frame, Steve’s teeth glinted in a wide smile.

 

“Why’s he sending me pictures of a baby?  Is this brain washing?  What does it _mean_?”  Tony wailed.  “Maybe there’s a ransom note coded in the pixels.  What babies does Steve know?  Or does he _want_ a baby?  Where do I get a baby for him?”

 

“Ask Pepper nicely,” Bruce shot back.  Tony didn’t have time to respond before he continued.  “Weren’t you telling me his friends had a kid?  That nice couple you invited over around Christmas?  You shoved Jane at me, saying she was an astrophysicist?  Thor, was it, who drank everyone under the table but stayed sober?  You were lying on the floor, tugging at his pants, begging me to x-ray him for hollow legs?  You went to their wedding over Valentine’s Day?”

 

“Oh.  Yeah.  Kid’s blond enough.  But what does it _mean_?”

 

Bruce gave him a look not unlike Pepper.  “You are two grown men in a serious romantic relationship.  Call and ask.”

 

“I can’t just _call_ , are you nuts?  I’m supposed to know what he’s thinking by now and he’ll be disappointed if I don’t – “

 

While he was blathering, Bruce leaned across the table and hit 2 on speed dial.  Steve picked up on the second ring.  _“Tony?”_   He sounded pleased.

 

Ignoring Bruce’s smug smirk, Tony winced, but spoke.  “Heeeey, Steve.  Just wondering what baby that was.”

 

 _“It’s Brandt.”_   Cloth rustled, like Steve was balancing his phone between his shoulder and his cheek, and there was a faint cooing/gurgling in the foreground, the murmur of voices in the background.  _“Thor is in town for a while on investigation, so Jane and Frigga drove up from New Mexico to surprise him.  They’re staying for the next week.”_

 

“He’s . . . cute.”

 

 _“Isn’t he?”_   The gurgling momentarily grew louder, and there was the sound of Steve blowing a raspberry, then baby giggles.  _“Are you coming up?”_

 

“To Camp Nelson?”

 

 _“Yeah.”_   It pained Tony to hear the note of disappointment in his voice.  _“We haven’t seen each other for a month.  I can’t leave, not in the middle of the season, and I know you’re busy, but seeing as Thor and Jane are here, we’re going to have a barbeque on the Fourth and I’d like you to be here.  If you can.”_

 

“ _Of course_ I’ll be there.  I can drive up . . . now, lemme get some clothes.”

 

 _“No, Tony.  Tomorrow.  Get your sleep.  Wait, just a sec –“_ He could tell Steve was grinning ridiculously from the tone of his voice, and well, Steve’s good moods were usually infectious.  Tony flipped Bruce off, because the asshole was still grinning in smug satisfaction.  He heard Steve pass the baby off to what sounded like Sam and Natasha, then striding and the slamming of the screen door.  _“Thank you, Tony.  It means a lot.  There aren’t any rooms open at the Lodge, so you’ll have to bunk with me at the house.”_

 

“Such a tragedy.”  Since Steve had moved out last year, Bucky had unceremoniously informed him that no, he would not be welcoming Steve back to their shared room, but they weatherproofed the sun porch for Steve to stay in during the summer.  It was just another thing that left Tony cautiously optimistic, because it wasn’t in shape to be inhabited in the winter.  Which meant Steve intended to move back down to LA after the fire season was over.  Back to Tony.

 

_“The shower in the basement isn’t very good, but it’s only for a few days –“_

 

“It’s fine, Steve.”

 

 _“If they want, you can invite Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce up for the Fourth.”_   Steve sounded almost eager.  _“I’d be nice to have them here to celebrate with us.”_

 

“I’ll forward the invite.  See you tomorrow?”

 

_“Yes.  Miss you.  Bye.”_

 

“Love you.  Bye.”  The call ended.  “Steve says you should come up for the Fourth.”

 

Bruce nodded.  “I guess it’d be nice.  It’s not like I have plans.  And I won’t mind celebrating Steve’s birthday.  Those firefighters know how to party.”

 

Tony froze.  “W-what did you say?”

 

“Oh, Tony.”  Bruce gave him a pitying look.  “I guess I should leave while you try and find Steve a birthday present?”

 

He groaned and buried his face in one of Pepper’s stupid throw pillows.  “I am the worst boyfriend in the world.”

 

Bruce just laughed at him.

 

 

 

Highway 190 was not the most scenic of California highways, but it did have its charms.

 

After passing through Porterville and past Lake Success, the two-lane highway wound through for about thirty miles before reaching the podunk little town that really wasn’t much more than a place to ask for directions because you got lost on your way to your campground.

 

Tony had taken the silver Audi, as anything else he owned would stand out, and it was a testament to his driving that he didn’t ram himself into a tree on eighty separate occasions, twisting through the winding roads.  He nervously twisted the golden amulet that Steve had given him almost a year before.  He couldn’t remember ever taking it off.

 

As always, the simple green highway sign with “Camp Nelson / Coy Flat” snuck up on him, and as distracted as he was, would have breezed right past it if it weren’t for the mismatched row of mailboxes on the shoulder.  The house where his favorite firefighters resided was represented by one of the largest, aluminum painted bright red with St. Florian’s Cross done in painstaking detail in gold and black.  It stuck out amid all the grey, white, and green boxes, just like five New York fire people in a town of 97.

 

He didn’t have much, just an overnight bag stuffed with some jeans and shirts and a few toiletries (and lube, plenty of lube).  Steve’s birthday present, which Tony had thankfully designed and had made after his own birthday but had never picked up, was nestled at the bottom of the bag.

 

Bruce said he would come up if he felt up to it, Pepper said she might have several meetings, and Tony wasn’t even able to reach Rhodey.  The wishy-washy way was nothing like any of them, but Tony refused to look deeper into it.

 

To his disappointment, Steve wasn’t there when he arrived, but Jane and Frigga had been left run of the house.

 

“Steve said to tell you he was sorry, but they got called out,” Jane apologized profusely.

 

“S’all right.  I know how it is.  This your little one?”

 

“Yup!” Jane chirped cheerfully, scooping the gurgling baby up from the blanket spread out on the floor.  Brandt tangled his fingers in her hair, but Jane didn’t seem to mind.  “Thor’s out too; said he wanted to get some meetings and such in so he could be with us all day tomorrow.  The four of us are staying in the Annie Oakley Room.  Bit of a squeeze, but it’s got two beds and we brought Brandt’s basket, so we manage.”

 

Tony had haggled with Steve in the past about staying in the Camp Nelson Lodge, literally the only place in the town that wasn’t a private home, but it was owned by a pretty . . . _devout_ couple and used for religious retreats, and Steve didn’t want Tony’s visits ruined by potential bigots.

 

“I know it’s my first year in your group, but do you guys always get together for birthdays?” Tony asked as he plopped on the couch with a glass of Sam’s “secret” lemonade.  (He put mint leaves and bourbon in it.  That was the secret.)

 

“Mmm-hmm,” Jane hummed vacantly, peppering Brandt’s face with kisses.  “But we make an extra effort for Steve.  He’s just . . . sort of like the core?  Of the group?  And he’s the only one who doesn’t like to make a fuss, so he gets the most fuss.  Plus, he was born on a major holiday, and well, you know how they _love_ to call him Captain America.”

 

“Yeah, he’s a walking pun.  But I love him.”

 

“And he loves you.”  There was a weighted moment where Jane just stared knowingly at him.

 

He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.  “So, tell me about your latest findings.”

 

Jane’s eyes glinted, more mad scientist than anyone had ever met.  “You will _die_.”

 

Frigga chose that moment to walk in.  “Then let me take my grandson before you hurt him with your uncovering of the mysteries of the universe,” she quipped smoothly.

 

 

 

The soft creak of Steve’s door stirred Tony, and the several sets of footsteps entered.  A faint sinker, belonging to Clint, was shushed by what sounded like Bucky.  He burrowed slightly closer into Steve’s side, tensing himself for whatever the guys had in store.

 

There was a quiet “One . . . two . . . _happy Steve day!_ ” accompanied by champagne poppers and tinny speakers playing “Born in the USA”.  Tony opened his eyes only to be hit in the face with a flag.  Laughing, Steve pulled it off their heads only to reveal Sam and Clint doing some elaborate war dance while waving smaller flags and Bucky fired off more poppers.

 

“They do this every year?” Tony asked, taking in the red, silver, and blue Mardi Gras beads, flag bandanas, and patriotic sunglasses.

 

“Eh, there’s variations to their theatrics, but much of it’s the same.”

 

Clint slammed himself down on the foot of their bed.  “Get your asses _up_.  We’re not allowed to have pancakes without the birthday boy.”

 

“Give us a few minutes, Clint.”

 

Still whooping and making other ridiculous noises, the trio left, banging the walls and trying to sing “Living in America” without knowing half the words.

 

“Sorry about them.  They just . . . we don’t always have a lot to celebrate.  They like to go overboard when the opportunity strikes.”

 

Tony found Steve’s fingers and squeezed his hand.  “It’s fun.  They do it because they care about you.  It’s nice.”

 

Steve gave him the most brilliant smile before pulling him in for a morning-breath laced kiss.

 

“Do you want your present now, or later?”

 

“Now.”

 

Tony stretched and rooted around in his bag, before finding the flatish box with comic book wrapping paper.  He threw it unceremoniously into Steve’s lap, before crawling back under the covers with him.  “I thought, since you gave me yours, I should give you one back.”

 

Steve gently peeled the tape back and opened the box.  It was a medallion, much like the one Steve had inherited from his father and had later given to Tony.  An equal armed cross, with St. Florian in the middle, calling for his protection of firefighters.  It was different from the one Tony wore, which was hammered and textured gold on a Figaro chain.  Steve’s new one was white gold and colorful enamel, on a smooth curb chain.  “It’s perfect.”

 

“You’re not going to ask about the price?”

 

“I’ve stopped worrying about that kind of thing when it comes to you.  Come here.”

 

 

 

After a quick Happy Birthday blowjob in the shower and forcing Steve into a Captain America tee shirt, they headed for the kitchen.  Thor and Jane were already there, enjoying the morning with their friends while Frigga took Brandt on a walk.  They’d missed the first round of pancakes, which were being quite ravenously consumed by the guys at the table.  Jane was nursing a mug of coffee perched on the counter while Nat looked to be piling fruit on a short stack.  Thor effortlessly flipped the pancake in the pan and boomed “Ah, another year, Steven?”

 

“Hopefully the next will be better than the last.”  Tony glanced at Steve quickly, seeing a helplessly wide and optimistic smile.

 

“Ah, yes, I have no doubts.”  Thor smiled secretly, and mimed zipping his lips.

 

“What’s gonna be better with the next year?” Tony asked suspiciously.

 

“Just . . . I can’t hope things will be even better?”  Steve smiled broader.

 

“And . . . voilá.”  Natasha turned, presenting a short stack of blueberry pancakes, piled with strawberry and blueberry compote, whipped cream, and topped with a couple tiny toothpick flags.

 

“That looks great.  Thanks, guys.”

 

Eventually, they were all squashed together at the table, Tony stuck between Steve and Clint.  It should have been gross, with tiny bits of pancake flying out of people’s (read: Clint’s) mouths, but everyone was in such a good mood, Tony didn’t really care.  They were going to set up for a cookout that would start later in the afternoon, but aside from that it was just a lazy day.  Bucky was complaining bitterly over the fact that they couldn’t get drunk today (just in case they needed to respond to some idiot setting off a stray illegal firework that might burn down the forest), but everyone just ignored him.

 

“So,” Sam asked around a mouth full of pancake, “what’re you two doin’ today?”

 

Steve turned to Tony with an evil grin.

 

“Wanna go for a hike?”

 

Tony groaned.

 

 

 

Steve loved hiking.  He loved climbing the many mountains in the park and viewing everything from above.  But Steve also had no issues with playing dirty, usually using access and emergency roads not open to the public so they only had to hike maybe a mile to get to the prime viewing location.

 

Parker Peak was Steve’s favorite mountain.  He’d taken Tony there on their first “date” that wasn’t them fleeing fire or sitting in a hospital.  While Tony didn’t care much for the hiking, he did love the views from the mountains.  The drive down from Camp Nelson was also a treat, winding leisurely through the giant sequoias, with bright sun beaming through the branches.  Steve rolled the windows of the truck down and they drove in peaceful silence, Tony sticking his head out of the window like a dog.

 

The day was hot, the sun not helping, but there was a very brisk breeze that didn’t make Tony regret his windbreaker at all.  They held hands, which Tony loved and found ridiculous in equal measures.  But with no one to see them, he was content just to walk with his boyfriend through the ancient trees.

 

It wasn’t just nice.  It was perfect.

 

So Tony really shouldn’t have been surprised by Steve kneeling down and asking Tony to marry him.

 

Steve twisted nervously.  “Now would be a really good time to say something.”

 

“Uhh, yes?”

 

“Yes you should say something, or yes you will marry me?”

 

“You idiot,” Tony growled, pulling a laughing Steve into a kiss.  The ring was just a simple rounded off band of yellow gold.  Tony never would have picked it for himself, but seeing the way it glowed gently against his skin, he could tell Steve had spent hours trying to match the warm gold with Tony’s skin.

 

“I know white gold is the ‘in’ thing right now, but yellow gold looks better on warm skin tones –“

 

“Are you seriously apologizing?” Tony asked him.  Steve just smile and lowered his eyelashes.  “I love it.  Love you, too.  ‘Corse I’ll marry you.”

 

 

 

It was late afternoon when they got back, the yard decked out in overly tacky red, white, and blue.  There were streamers, and balloons, and those horrible foil centerpieces on top of the red table cloths.  The party already looked to be in full swing.

 

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce milling about with Steve’s friends in the backyard.

 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “You told them, didn’t you?”

 

Steve just shrugged, eyes sparkling.  “We’ve got a lot to celebrate.” 

 

There were the people Tony knew, a few he’d met once or twice, and plenty he recognized from photos.  The other members of Crew 91 were there, as was Peggy, Steve’s old girlfriend and her new girlfriend, plus many of the people who worked in the park or lived in Camp Nelson.  But Pepper was the first to greet them.

 

“ _Let me see!”_ she shrieked, ambushing Tony with a hug and yanking his left arm almost clean out of its socket.  She poked the ring.  “Oh, I like it.  Simple.  Classic.  It fits.”  She looked up at him, tears sparkling in her eyes.  “I’m so happy for you.”

 

“Thanks, Pep.”  He pulled her into a hug, sniffing softly.  Even since things started with Steve, he’s seen the biggest weight come off her shoulders.  She didn’t have to worry nearly as much anymore.  “Are you gonna give me away?”

 

She pulled back, laughing now.  “We’ll see.  But I told Jan, who has _already_ designed your wedding tux.  She still needs to coordinate with what Steve’s wearing, but she says under no circumstances are you wearing white.”

 

“Hey!  It’s my first wedding!  I can wear white!”

 

Pepper gave him another squeeze.  “ _Only_ wedding?”

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

Other people had begun strolling over, calling out their congratulations.  Bucky railroaded through the crowd with about five unlit sparklers stuck in his bun, nursing a non-alcoholic beer.  He sighed and threw his fake arm around Steve’s shoulders with an exaggerated sniff.  “I can’t believe my baby’s getting’ _married_.”

 

“Oh, no.”

 

“No, really Steve, I’m so proud of _you_ , my _son_ –“

 

“Oh God.”

 

“ - whom I _birthed_ –“

 

“Stop it.”

 

“ – and wrapped in the flag of _freedom_ –“

 

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

 

“Hey!  We are proud of our son!” Sam shouted from where he was tending three grills with Thor, who where both wearing frilly aprons and chef hats printed with the flag.  “Let the mother of the bride have her moment.”

 

“Excuse _you_ , but _I_ am the mother of the bride,” Rhodey announced grandly.

 

“Eat shit and die, Rhodes.  You’re the mother of the groom and will be wearing taupe accordingly,” Bucky sneered playfully.  “As the mother of the bride I will be wowing everyone in blue.  Or violet.”

 

“You can’t pull off violet,” Rhodey scoffed.

 

“Violet brings out my eyes, you ass!”

 

“Do they think mother outranks best man?” Jane asked, juggling a squirming Brandt.

 

“I don’t care.  Just let me be the drunk uncle,” Clint intoned before Natasha swatted him.  She ignored his whines of protest and pulled Tony into a hug.

 

“I’m so happy for the both of you,” she whispered in to his ear over Rhodey and Bucky’s yells.  “I was worried when Steve first met you, but now?  No such concerns.  But remember, break his heart and you will perish.”

 

Tony glanced over where Steve was getting kissed on the cheek by Peggy and clapped on the shoulders by the guy they called Dum-Dum.  He looked so happy.  “I would never.”

 

“Good.”

 

 

 

It was just getting dark when they heard the phone ring.  Sam jogged inside to answer it.  When he came back out, all of the present firefighters were very still.

 

“That was Fury.  Looks like we’re gonna have to break this up,” he announced apologetically.  Everyone except Steve groaned.

 

“Where?” was all he asked.

 

“Near the Needles.  Might be an all-nighter.”  More groans.

 

Steve turned to Tony.  “I’m sorry.”

 

Tony just shook his head.  “Don’t be.  It’s your job.”

 

Steve smiled, gave him a quick peck.  “Be back soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you were wondering, yes, everyone was in on it.


End file.
